


amore

by maddy_does (favefangirl)



Series: Aaron Dingle Week 2020 [3]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Fluff, I think?, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Infidelity, M/M, because thats what our boys are best at
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:07:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26937115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favefangirl/pseuds/maddy_does
Summary: Aaron is with Ben now. They love each other. Robert returning doesn't change that. Does it?
Relationships: Aaron Dingle/Ben Tucker, Aaron Dingle/Ed Roberts, Aaron Dingle/Jackson Walsh, Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden, Past:
Series: Aaron Dingle Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940446
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	amore

**Author's Note:**

> [Aaron Dingle Week 2020](https://aarondingleweek2020.tumblr.com/) Day 3 (14th Oct): “Actually, I just miss you.” and/or “I love you, you idiot!”
> 
> Big up @lizzzzoo @howellobrien and @like-the-first-time-i-kissed-you on tumblr for running this :)

He remembers a lot from his childhood, a lot more than most, anyway. He remembers his parents fighting all the time, words like venom thrown across the kitchen table over a Sunday roast. He remembers trips to the beach, the smell of the sea, finding conch shells and picking up crabs to chase his dad around with until he would snap, shout at him, and announce they were going home. 

It’s harder, a lot harder, but he does remember good times, too. Remembers cuddling with his mum in front of the telly, the way her perfume smelled, the sound of her heartbeat. She’d hold him close to her chest, stroke his hair, and make crap jokes about whatever they were watching. He wishes, sometimes, that he could go back and tell a younger version of himself to remember that - to hold onto those memories. 

They didn’t say it a lot. None of them did. Especially not to each other. Though, Aaron supposes, they probably said it in other ways; cooking, cleaning, kissing wounds better. But he never heard it much, not when he was young. Not even before when they were still a proper family. 

The first time he remembers hearing it he was about six. He was going on an overnight trip to some castle the next county over. He didn’t even really want to go, but all his mates were and it was a way to get him out of the house, so he went. They were at the school gates loading onto the coach, a frail looking driver lifting heavy bags into the storage compartment beneath it. His mum was there but his dad had wandered off to talk to one of the teachers about his behaviour. 

His mum had grabbed him by the shoulders and given him the usual spiel about behaving himself, having a good time, but staying out of trouble. He was only half listening, more concerned with worming his way out of her grip and running over to his mate Matt. She kissed him on the forehead which at the time had been dead embarrassing, but looking back was so fond it hurt.

“See you tomorrow, okay? Love you,” she’d said.

He wishes he could go back and tell himself to cherish it. To really take note because for whole years of his life he’ll never hear it again. But then, hindsight is a bitch and he should really know by now that that kind of wishful thinking doesn’t help anything. It’s never eased the resentment that still burns bright white in his stomach sometimes about how he was left alone, left to Gordon. It’s not very often he feels it anymore, not now he and his mum managed to fix everything (most things), but still.

It’s not just from his mum, though. He goes to Jackson’s grave sometimes, just to say hi, let him know how things are. He still wonders, even though he really shouldn’t, if things could’ve been different. If he’d just said it back, if he’d stopped him from getting in the van, if he’d done _more_. He looks at the grave and thinks of the young man who could’ve gone on to be and do so much more than he ever has, and he can’t breathe around how much the guilt crushes him.

Jackson told him he loved him, the first man to ever do so, the first man he ever loved back. Even at the time it felt like a lot of responsibility, to be handed someone’s heart like that. Selflessly, caringly, _lovingly_. He’d ruined it all, of course, but sometimes when he struggles to remember the little things, like his favourite movie or the exact colour of his eyes, he can still hear him saying it. Three little, but monumental, words. He’d taken it for granted. He’s always taken it for granted. 

Ed didn’t say it, not really. He was nice, caring, affectionate, Aaron never felt neglected, but he never really said it. Not in so many words, anyway. He’d kiss Aaron before training every morning, and he held his hand when they watched telly (Aaron hated it, but he never said anything) and he would throw around cheap ‘love ya’s’ every now and then. But it never felt real, not like it had done with Jackson.

Not like it did with Robert, either. He remembers the first time Robert says it, still wonders sometimes if the whole thing had been a ploy for him to keep quiet. Initially, anyway. He knows it wasn’t though, he could _feel_ it wasn’t, even when Robert went home to Chrissie and that perfect, fake little life he was trying to craft for himself up at home farm. He’d believed him and felt truly, properly, loved for the first time since Jackson. Not even his mum, not even way back when he was off to Nottingham castle and just wanted to have fun with his mates, made him feel loved the way Robert did.

That’s why Rebecca hurt so much, because he knew how Robert felt about him, how much he loved him, and yet he was willing to throw it all away for the sake of a one night stand with a big hat and a ridiculous accent. It’s also how he knew that he and Alex could never work because even though Robert could hurt him like no one else could, he also loved him like no one else ever had, and that felt like it was worth the risk - that Robert, that they were worth the risk.

It’s not like that with Ben. Aaron always feels like he has room for doubts. Some days when he’s exhausted and moody and angry at the world and he’s snappy, or quiet, or sad, he does wonder if it’s enough. If when Ben says that he loves him, that’s enough. He knows he can be a nightmare, but it was never a question before. Now he wonders if he’s too much. He makes himself believe it, though, that it’ll all be fine.

It becomes a lot less convincing when Robert comes home. And the fact that he considers it coming home should probably be the first clue that not everything is right with Ben. Ben asks, of course, if Robert returning means the end for them, and he tells him no. Because maybe he’s back to feeling how he did all those years ago when he was a closeted man’s dirty secret, like he can’t breathe, like he’s walking on egg shells all the time, like the only thing that makes sense is being around him, but he says that’s just him needing closure. They never really got any, not with the way things ended.

Ben still keeps asking though, when will closure be enough? Aaron knows, objectively, that its a fair question. His ex has just waltzed back into his life and he’s basically confessed to not being over him. He knows that Ben has every right to be suspicious. They still argue about it though. Ben storms out, Aaron burns the dinner he was making, Liv makes herself scarce. It’s a mess, honestly, and he knows he needs to fix it.

He texts Ben the next day, tells him his plan, tries to write off the sinking feeling he gets when Ben’s supportive of it as just nerves. He has a right to be nervous. That’s normal. He keeps telling himself this as he makes his way over to Keepers where Robert’s staying while he’s back in the village. He works from home, hasn’t been to the scrap yard once, usually uses Jimmy as a go between for whenever he needs anything. He doesn’t know if he’s relieved to have had limited interactions with him, or if he misses him.

He needs to take a deep breath before he knocks on the door, needs to remind himself that Ben loves him and he loves Ben. And that is enough. It is. So he knocks.

Robert opens the door looking sleep ruffled, hair a mess on his head, an oversized t-shirt that Aaron is pretty sure used to belong to him hanging on his lean frame. He needs to pause to breathe at the sight, so familiar, nostalgic almost, a snapshot from a time where he never had to wonder or question of fear at all, even for all that he did. Even for all that a cruel voice in his head would tell him that he would never be enough.

“Aaron?” Robert asks, and his name in that voice is definitely not still his absolute favourite thing. 

“Can we talk?” Aaron replies, voice far more strained than he’d intended it to be.

Robert’s brow creases but he nods and steps aside so Aaron can enter the house. He looks behind him as he goes even though he has nothing to be guilty about, he’s told Ben where he is, and with everything going on in the village at the minute, his friendship with Robert will be the last thing anyone worries about.

He walks into the living room ahead of Robert who closes the door behind him. It’s jarring when Robert comes into the room and is surrounded by Harry’s toys and photos. He’s almost reminiscent of the life they nearly had with their own baby, their own photos. He kills the thought as soon as it appears. He can’t do that to Ben, and he can’t do that to himself. He’s here for closure, nothing more.

“So,” Robert begins, looking as awkward as Aaron feels (when did he not know how to be in Robert’s company?) and looking around. “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah,” Aaron says and swallows hard. He reaches into his jacket pocket and hesitates. Is he really ready to do this?

He remembers as a kid, his mum, when she left. He remembers how she tried to tell him it wasn’t his fault and that she would always love him. She kissed him on the forehead, just like she’d done when he was six, her perfume surrounding him, lingering long after she had gone. He remembers how it’d gutted him, her going, and how that only increased as time with Gordon and Sandra drew on.

But Robert isn’t Chas, and he has Ben to think of here.

He pulls the ring out of his pocket and places it on the coffee table. 

Robert’s gasp is audible. 

“I just think we need to say goodbye. Properly.” Aaron explains, surprising himself with the steadiness of his voice. His hands are shaking where he’s stuffed them back in his pockets, but he sounds calm. “Not just with some papers through the post.”

“Aaron, I-”

“I know,” Aaron interrupts, quickly. “It was for the best. You needed me to move on. I do understand why. But I think we need to do it properly now that we can.”

Robert nods, swallows, nods again. “I’m sorry for how it all went down." A pause like a hesitation. "It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Aaron believes him, because he knows that Robert loved him, and he knows how hard signing the papers was. It felt impossible to breathe, to exist. He forgot how to function on his own, and suddenly his everything was just … gone. There’s no doubt in his mind that Robert went through the same thing, too.

“But you’ve got Ben now, so it’s all worked out well in the end.” If Aaron didn’t know Robert as well as he does he might’ve missed the bitterness in his tone.

“Yeah,” Aaron agrees, because he does. And Ben is lovely, and he gets on with Liv, and they're good together. He doesn’t need to break his heart.

“Good.”

There’s an awkward silence that seems to stretch out to infinity between them, and it’s never been like this before. Not since Alex. Not since the last time they were in this situation. Aaron remembers the night he nearly kissed Robert, how much he’d wanted to, how much he’d _wanted_ and he knows he has to leave now or he might not at all. He makes towards the door at the same time Robert steps towards him and their hands brush together. Aaron doesn’t flinch at the contact, but it does send a shock down his spine. 

He looks at where they’re touching, the first time they’ve touched skin to skin in far, far too long. He looks up and Robert is so close. A hair’s breath away. Close in every single possible way. Robert leans forward and Aaron hasn’t decided whether he’s going to kiss back when he feels those lips against his temple. It’s gentle, but it takes his breath away. He remembers his mum kissing him before she left, the ache he felt when she was gone. The physical hurt of missing someone he knows loves him unconditionally, and who he loves back.

Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s tilted his head up and found Robert’s lips. He really shouldn’t. Shouldn’t press their lips together, shouldn’t sigh into the feeling like coming home, shouldn’t move his hands to cup the sides of Robert’s face to hold him closer. He definitely shouldn’t rejoice at the feel of Robert’s arms coming to wrap around him, or the way it pulls them closer together, or the unsure movements towards the sofa, but he does. He does and it's wonderful.

He doesn’t think of Ben, or the inevitable heartbreak this will cause, or all the people they’re both going to hurt here. All he thinks about Robert, and his arms around him, skin on skin, sharing breaths, kissing like it’s the most natural thing in the world, because it always has been. He knows, though, that they’ve been here before.

“Rob … Robert …” Aaron says between kisses. “Wait, stop.” Robert does, moves his lips away from Aaron’s neck to look him in the eye with a quizzical expression on his face. “What’s happening here? Why are you doing this?”

The look of confusion on Robert’s face melts away and he presses a kiss to Aaron’s neck, cheek, lips. “Because **I love you, you idiot,** ” he says softly.

Ben will be waiting for him back at the Mill, hoping that Aaron will have found his closure. Liv'll be there for dinner and they'll eat together. They'll go to be and before they turn the lights off for the night, Ben will say he loves him. Aaron, despite everything, will still say it back. He'll say it back with the taste of Robert's kiss still on his tongue. And he might not even feel guilty about it, because he never did with Chrissie. And even if he left right now, he knows deep down that they'd find their way back to each other. Maybe a barn, maybe a hotel room, maybe the master bedroom in the Mill while Ben's away. It'll be a mess and blow up in both of their faces, and with the prospect of all that it's a wonder why they would still feel this way about each other.

But when Robert says it, without question, without hesitation, Aaron believes him.

**Author's Note:**

> ngl, i got all the way to the end of this and realised i hadn't included a prompt so i sort of had to shoe horn it in. whoops.
> 
> so today in my very poorly ordered writing schedule i've been hungover all day, procrastinating uni work, and some random guy is tryna chat me up. life is wild, honestly, and this is like the last normal thing standing.
> 
> i sort of had a really good idea for this and then the execution just is not it??? so i'm v sorry about that. 
> 
> anyway, if you wanna leave a comment or a kudos they're much appreciated! especially let me know if there's something you think i forgot to tag! they pretty much fuel me these days tbh.
> 
> i'm taking prompts! if you're interested please drop the prompt in the comments below. if you do send a prompt be prepared for me to take fifty years to fill it because school is so hard (or, i guess, uni now, lol), but i promise i'll try! come say hi on tumblr: [@maddy-does](https://maddy-does.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading, have a wonderful existence.


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